


riddles in the morning

by Areiton



Series: Find Me In the World [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Carpenter Derek, Derek Hale & Braeden Friendship, Future Fic, Healing, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, finding each other, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13445781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: Stiles scent is faint but presence, and it lingers over the wood of his pieces, the furniture that hasn’t sold.He blinks.





	riddles in the morning

“Do you do custom work?”

Derek hesitated. The whole trip to Boston was  _ different _ this month, an odd dissonance to the drive down, to the shop itself. 

It smells, faintly, of Stiles, a familiar warm apple pie spice that curls in his sense and leaves him just a little off balance. 

He’s scented Stiles here, in the streets of Boston, but never  _ here _ in the shop he’s come to think of as his. 

Stiles scent is faint but presence, and it lingers over the wood of his pieces, the furniture that hasn’t sold. 

He blinks. “What kind of custom work?”

Davis hands him a slip of paper and Derek glances at it, just briefly, before he pockets it and finishes his delivery. 

“About the job?” Davis says. 

Derek shrugs, “I’ll let you know next time.”

When he gets home, he hides from his pack, shifts and vanishes into the woods. 

Lily found him, when the sun had fallen, shifted into her beta form, eyes glowing golden and sad. She didn’t say anything to Derek, and he didn’t offer an explanation, just whined softly when she curled around him and let the night slip past. 

It took him two weeks of quiet withdrawal and being watched with increasing distress by his pack, before they break down and Braeden shows up at his cabin. 

He blinks at her, too tired and conflicted to even be surprised and she nods, as if to herself. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

Derek sighs and pulls out the slip of paper, the one that is wrinkled and folded, the faint scent of Stiles long faded, and she reads it, a tiny smile on her lips when she looks up at him. 

“Well. What are you gonna do?” 

He doesn’t know. 

The note--the request--it’s an invitation. And he knows Stiles, or did, once, and he knows if he doesn’t respond, Stiles will respect it, will never reach out to him again. 

He knows that it’s enough, for Stiles, knowing he’s healthy and alive. It reminds him of that night, stolen on the streets of Boston, watching Stiles live his life from the dark, and content because Stiles was  _ happy _ . 

“You’ve always loved that kid, Der.” Braeden says, softly, and Derek shrugs. 

“It would never have worked, then.” 

“No,” she agrees, readily, “But what about now? You’re not the same person who left Beacon Hills.”

Derek looks at her, then, his gaze haunted. “I’m not. What if--”

Braeden smiles. “That boy looked at you like you hung the moon. You’ve changed--hell, he’s changed. But he’ll still love you.”

Derek stares at her, and nods. 

The next day, he leaves her there, in his cabin, where his pack is sleeping, and wanders into the woods. He doesn’t know, exactly, what he is looking for, but he thought he’d recognize it when he saw it. 

He rubbed Stiles note between his fingers and let a tiny smile curl up his lips as he walked through the morning. 

_ I’ve always been fond of puzzles. The tree reminded me of a time in my life I don’t like thinking about, but the puzzle kept me entranced, for hours.  _

_ If you would like--but only if you want something like this, want to create this--I would very much like a new puzzle, maybe something I can carry into the future, same as the tree belongs to my past.  _

 


End file.
